Wildest Dreams
by firecrackermish
Summary: They say bad things come in three. Well, Draco just lost his mother, his father and his life of ignorance has been shattered. Why aren't things getting better? AU with HarryDraco


**Wildest Dreams**

Summary: They say bad things come in three. Well, Draco just lost his mother, his father and his life of ignorance has been shattered. Why aren't things getting better?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters aren't mine. Don't sue.

Rating: M, but not this chapter

Pairings: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione

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**Part 1**

It was already dark outside, though it was still early afternoon, and angry grey clouds threatened to rain. The taxi driver had attempted to start a conversation but one angry glare had made him stop mid-word. The blond boy he had picked up from university had been quiet for the whole two hour drive.

"Turn left here," the boy instructed coldly and the driver jumped, a little startled to finally hear a noise other than his tuneless humming. The little yellow vehicle hesitated before turning.

"Here?" The man glanced in the mirror to look at his passenger more closely. "You're a Malfoy?"

"Yes." The driver's eyes widened in amazement. How could he not have noticed the platinum blond hair? He couldn't wait to get home to his wife and tell her that he had been driving the famous Draco Malfoy!

"Oh! Wow! I thought you rich folk all had personal chauffeurs or something."

Draco didn't answer. He stared out the window and watched in dread as the Malfoy Mansion got closer. The clouds seemed to be particularly dense over the building.

"No wonder you seem so sad. I read about what happened to your mum in the newspaper this morning." When Draco didn't answer, he continued. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Draco clenched his teeth. Though the man sounded sincere, reminders of why he had to visit the mansion right in the middle of his midterms did not help his mood. He resisted the urge to not pay the man and withdrew money from his wallet. How did a stupid taxi driver afford a newspaper anyways? Once out of the taxi, he brusquely gave the man the bills, no tips, and breathed the fresh air in relief. He lifted his chin and prepared to face his father.

The house was quiet and seemed emptier somehow even though there were more than three dozen workers bustling about. Everyone had sad, fearful looks on their face, trying to figure out if Draco would snap and yell at them any minute. He scowled at a young girl that he vaguely recognized when she took too long to take his coat and was satisfied at her flinch and her stuttered sorry.

Dobson, the butler since Draco had been four, walked up to him and meekly told him that his father was in the study. From the looks on the butler's face, Draco expected his father to be in a violent mood. His father expressed his grief by throwing objects around, the more expensive the better. Good thing they were rich.

Draco listened for shattering glass from the door of the study and when he didn't hear any, he finally got the nerve to open the door. The room was surprisingly clean and exactly as it had been when Draco had last visited it. The shelves were full of books about mythology and magic and other things that made Draco roll his eyes.

A few years ago, his father had found a several books about the supposed history of magic and had instantly become interested. Lucius loved the idea that magic could exist and as a pastime, would learn as much about it as he could. A "dragon's" tooth lay on the table. It had cost Lucius thousands to get the seller to accept to sell it. Narcissa had rolled her eyes fondly and it became a little in joke between her and Draco. Draco would get one of his baby teeth that they kept in the "My Firsts" album and Narcissa would exclaim that they had found a unicorn tooth. They would laugh and make plans to sell it to a museum for millions.

The thought now made Draco sad. He squared his shoulders, shook his head of the memories, and prepared to yell at the butler for giving him false information (his father was nowhere to be seen) when something caught his eye. A lock of long blond hair peeking from behind the desk.

Slumped on the ground, Lucius Malfoy quietly sobbed, his face half-hidden by strands of hair.

Being eighteen years old, Draco was old enough to know that his father wasn't as perfectly composed as he always seemed. However, it still shocked him when he saw the ever strong and collected Lucius Malfoy crying, the Lucius who had told him that men never cry. It made his mother's death seem that much more real.

Lucius did not even pay attention as Draco slowly walked up to him. He lay crumpled on the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut off. A glass of whiskey had been spilt on the Persian rug and Draco knew it would forever be ruined. The small spoilt side of Draco was instantly angry. He had lost his mother. His _mother_. He needed support and sympathy. And he needed his father to be strong for him. Children were never supposed to see their parents cry (or have sex). It was one of the first rules of parenting.

The other part of Draco was scared and helpless. He felt useless and young. He wasn't an ignorant child anymore. He was an adult and had been one legally for nearly a year now. He felt like he should know what to do. He should hug his father. He should be strong. He should try to comfort him. He should convince his father to get some rest. He should get his father away from the broken glass of the shattered picture of Narcissa Malfoy. He should call someone in to clean up the mess.

Draco took one look at the broken man at his feet and left the room, not able to stand the muffled sobs, so loud now that he was listening for them. He asked Winka to inform him of the date and location of his mother's funeral when it was settled and called for another taxi.

He had only come to see his father. Now that he had finished, he had nothing more to do. If he left the mansion in such a hurry, it was because he had a midterm the next day.

Once Draco stepped into the dorm room, Neville was at his side.

"I'm fine, Neville." He lifted up his hand to quiet to questions he knew the boy was about to ask. "I have to study for the history midterm."

"Ok." Neville looked at him carefully before grabbing Draco's history book and placing it on the table. "Go take a shower first, though. You'll feel better and it'll be easier for you to study."

Draco nodded, having no energy to argue.

Draco had no clue what he had written on the paper used to deciding dorm roommates (or who he had pissed off in his past life) to be stuck with Neville Longbottom. Having Neville as a roommate was like living with a clumsy male wife; He nagged, and worried, and scolded, and gave puppy dog looks when Draco didn't listen. He even baked burnt cakes and filled the dorm room with plants.

But despite the docile attitude, Neville could definitely be scary when he was angry. Some idiot trying to appear tough had once nastily asked Draco if his mother was dead yet; it was the disadvantage of being famous and envied. Draco had stupidly let the comment affect him and had immediately felt ill and cold. He hadn't exactly seen what had happened, but the next moment, the boy had been clutching a bleeding nose and Neville had been yelling so angrily that the boy had forgotten dignity and ran.

Draco had decided from then on that having Neville as a roommate wasn't as horrible as he had first thought. Even though it meant having a kitchen full of bright pink flowers with strange names and green vines that Draco swore moved when Neville wasn't looking.

As Draco turned on the water and let the soothing spray calm his nerves, he contemplated his first day at the dorms and how angry he was. When Draco had started college, the same one as his father of course, he had wanted an apartment of his own. His father had completely agreed, saying that the dorms were for commoners. His mother, however, had wanted her son to see the "real world" as she called it. And of course, even pale and sickly, his mother had gotten her way.

Draco had shrieked and pouted and thrown a tantrum. He had even dramatically threatened to injure one of the servants but his mother had just lifted an eyebrow and told him to do it (Wasn't it horrible when parents called your bluff?). The servant ran, shrieking at the top of her lungs once Draco released her and no one had ever seen her again, though Draco heard rumours of an escape to Timbuktu. But nothing could change his mother's mind.

Draco had expected the most horrible living conditions in the world and, to his dismay, the reality was worst. The dorms were host to many drunken parties that kept him awake the entire night. The bedrooms were as small as his closets at home and even then, they still had to be shared by two people. And sometimes, on days that Neville had a date and spent hours primping (how could he be straight?!), Draco had to wait hours before he could even take a shower.

But now that he had started staying here, it wasn't so bad. For one, he was closer to Harry.

Harry had arrived like a tornado into his life. He had come, seen, and conquered and Draco, who had never in his life questioned his heterosexuality, had been put in quite a complicated situation when he found himself day dreaming of Harry Potter's lips. He was the Malfoy heir! He was supposed to date several pretty girls until he found the right one, preferable a gorgeous, D cup, trophy wife would give him a little Malfoy junior, then live happily ever after .

Draco had been calmly sitting in his chemistry class when Harry had boldly walked up to him with a leer. He had smiled and flirted and shamelessly offered the use of his body. Draco had easily ignored him and dismissed him as one of those uncouth boys his father had warned him about. However, then came a decision that had to be pure fate. The professor, for God knew what reason, had decided to pair them up.

Harry had been… completely useless. By the end of the lab, Draco had been ready to pull his hair out. Harry knew nothing about measurements. He always forgot to balance out the equations. He paid absolutely no attention to the rules and instead did whatever he wanted to do.

When Draco had at long last snapped, "Can you help for just a second, you dim-witted git!" Harry had widened his eyes and closed his mouth and finally, finally, decided to help. Unfortunately, his helping was worst than his non-helping and he managed to break a beaker, spilling diluted acid all over Draco's lab coat.

Both of them had been forced to clean the glass off the floor and by the time they were finished, everyone but the teacher assistant had gone.

After they were done and then teacher assistant left, throwing them dirty looks, Draco turned to leave also but Harry caught his shirt sleeve. Punching Harry was not an option even though the teacher assistant had already left and there was no one to see. Chemistry laboratory had been a night class and the hallways were deserted when they left the room.

"I'm really sorry about that," Harry had said with an abashed expression on his face, no longer looking cocky. Draco had closed his eyes and tried to think of his Peaceful Place, like Neville had taught him.

"You better be! You're going to make me fail this class and I've never gotten lower than a ninety percent in chemistry."

Harry had then pouted. "It's because you were distracting me!"

"What?" Draco had turned furious eyes to the black-haired boy.

"You kept on biting your bottom lip!"

"How is that distracting?!"

"It made me want to do this!" Harry had swooped down and kissed him and Draco had instinctively slugged him in the face with as much strength as he could muster. Harry had clutched his bleeding nose grinning and said, "So you're not gay?" and Draco, not wanting Harry to be right about anything, showed him how a real man kissed. Draco would forever remember the moment fondly as the moment he had gone insane.

Their "thing", as Draco like to call it, had started out mostly physical and even now, pretty much consisted of stolen kisses when no one was looking and shags in Harry's room when Seamus was gone, which was very often.

"Seamus fucks a different girl every night and believes that it's gentlemanly to stay the night. He's or doing that or getting drunk the whole night," Harry had explained. The Thing wouldn't last, of course and his father would murder him if he found out, but Draco quite liked the situation as it was and decided that he would cross the bridge when he got there.

Knocking on the door was what snapped Draco out of his daydreams of the past.

"Umm… Draco? Are you coming out anytime soon?" Neville sounded worried and Draco realized, looking at his wrinkled skin, that he had probably stayed in there for over an hour. He hadn't even noticed the hot water slowly becoming colder. Poor Neville was going to have to have another shower with no hot water. Draco quickly got out and grabbed a towel, leaving the room in a burst of steam.

"Do you always let Neville see you half-naked?" Harry was standing in front of the door with a mock-angry expression on his face.

"Well, we are secretly having an affair," Draco answered with an easy smile.

"Whoa," said Neville, lifting his hands half up in surrender when Harry glared. "Stop trying to get me murdered." He gave a nervous laugh then quickly entered the bathroom and locked the door. Once he was gone, Harry leaned down to kiss Draco.

"Missed you," Harry murmured against Draco's lips.

"It's only been one day, stupid." But Draco had a bright happy smile on his face.

"Bedroom?" Harry asked with a grin. Draco's answering grin was all Harry needed and they both rushed off.

"You finished all the water again!" Neville shouted accusingly from the bathroom but Harry and Draco were too busy to hear him.


End file.
